


objectification (and a pattern of abuse)

by Sedusa



Series: Be More Chill one-shots [10]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Aged Up, Bondage, Burnplay, Choking, Drug Use, Evil!Michael Mell, Evil!Mr. Heere, Graphic Description, Hebephilia, M/M, Misgendering, Non-Consensual Bondage, Parent/Child Incest, Recreational Drug Use, This is NOT character bashing they're just evil, Trans Jeremy Heere, Underage Rape/Non-con, aged down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 10:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21098213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sedusa/pseuds/Sedusa
Summary: Jeremy owed them everything.





	objectification (and a pattern of abuse)

**Author's Note:**

> If it matters, I'm a trans man.  
Feel free to hit me up @Full-Course-Identity on Tumblr and Dreamwidth for conversation, suggestions, and death threats.

Michael’s basement was fogged with the heat of sex and drugs. 

It was midnight on a school night, mid December. The frost outside had mingled with the temperature inside, clouding the only window. Michael stared at it, eyes trailing the icy patterns painting the glass from his spot on a broken throne made of beige polyester. He pulled a joint to his lips.

He took in a drag, slow as he let the smoke slice at his throat and his lungs, then released in a single silver ribbon. “You really fucked me over Jer,” he said, teeth gritted with the effort not to cough. “You really did.”

Jeremy knelt in forgiveness at Michael’s feet--at least, that’s how Michael liked to think of it. Forgiveness. A prayer of mercy. Jeremy was being made to prove his loyalty, once and for all.

His hands were tied, intricate silk holding his wrists behind his back. His eyes had been similarly disabled, an identical knot blinding him; the moisture of tears leaking down his cheeks had turned the bottom of the fabric a dark shade. Michael would’ve mocked him for it, but he actually quite liked the look. 

Until recently, he never would’ve known how beautifully his boyfriend cried.. 

The thought made his cock twitch against Jeremy’s tongue, which moved in long strokes along his shaft. This was a licking rhythm that had been demanded at the start of the evening. There had been a small protest, but with the right combination of guilting words, Jeremy had agreed. Too bad he hadn’t known what Michael actually planned until it was too late… not that a no would’ve been allowed in the first place.

“You give bad head,” he sneered. It wasn’t actually true, of course, but Jeremy didn’t know better. The way he flinched in response made Michael grin. “Is that like, a thing for straight girls? You can nag your nuclear husbands or whatever all day and night, but the moment they decide your mouth could be put to better use you turn into the World’s worst fleshlight? Or maybe that’s just some dumb fratboy shit, and you, specifically, are terrible at this.”

A particularly heavy couple of droplets fell on Michael’s cock. He smiled again and took another drag.

The best part of dating jailbait was how the power imbalance pressed Jeremy into a docile submissive, perhaps eager to please his glorious _ senpai_. Michael was a fully grown adult compared to him; 19 years old, he had a car and a job and all the cool shit he could use to impress and terrify Freshmen. 

Not that any of it mattered, when the Squip bullshit happened. 

_ (“He… m-my Squip told me I need to stay away from you. You always... you n-never listen when I tell y-- … Michael. Michael, wait. Please. No… no, no no no I don’t want Red I don’t need help please stop stop STOP--”) _

Michael’s eyes narrowed. He raised his hand, palm flat, and swiped downward. Jeremy yelped. Cold anger curdled in Michael’s stomach. “Pick up the pace, loser.”

The door behind them clicked open.

Slow on the steps, Mr. Heere walked in. He carried a glass of coke, which he must have gotten to take his little blue pill; the effect of the medication was immediately visible on his naked form, as he stood at full erection, cock a beautifully long, thick build that made Michael’s mouth water. Mr. Heere handed the rest of coke off to Michael, who downed it and set it aside. “Is Bethany being a good girl, Mikey? Is she doing what you told her to?”

Michael laughed, nodding. _ Bethany _ had hesitated when she heard his voice, but Mr. Heere saw her quickly catch back up. The color of her face, creamy skin turning sheet white, gave her dismay away easily.

Perhaps she hoped he would change his mind. What a silly idea; with that ass, those legs, and God, those _ tits_, she’s lucky he hadn’t fucked her already. Oh, he’d thought himself a normal father for most of her life of course, but the past few months reminded him that he had a growing teenager--a teenager so hopelessly misguided, so completely ditzy, that she actually needed a physical reminder of who owned her.

Yet he almost felt _ bad _ taking her virginity when she was with Michael. The poor boy had been hurt the most by her unfortunate rebellious outbursts, despite being so kind as to cater to her gender delusions. He deserved to wreck every inch of her. Instead, he happily offered Mr. Heere her little cunt in exchange for the knotwork which now bound her.

Mr. Heere ran the tips of his fingers over her hip, marvelling at how soft and fatty her flesh felt. She was better endowed than any fully grown woman he knew, much less fucked. He looked up at Michael. “Can you believe she thought she liked girls?”

A dark expression passed over Michael’s face. “Unfortunately,” he nearly spat. “He’s been rejecting me since we met. Thought he deserved _ better, _I guess.”

But then, perhaps in outrage at the thought, he decided he _ would _ spit, quite literally. He _ hork _ ’d, a disgusting phlegmy sound which echoed through the basement, and pulled Jeremy’s head back enough for it to land right on his cheek. Michael shoved him back down towards his sac. “ _ Lick_.”

Mr. Heere chuckled. The boy was all passion and fire; ever since he to latch onto Bethany, nearly 5 years older than her yet hovering at roughly the same level of maturity, Mr. Heere had been waiting for them to go official. The love Michael held for her was plain as night and day, and certainly she could get none better, not with how neurotic and awkward she is. 

Instead, Michael was strung along for years. Never giving a clear no but certainly not saying yes, Bethany had pined after some girl she’d mentioned occasionally instead, somehow remaining oblivious to her impending fate.

If you were to ask Mr. Heere, the best women accepted their place as obedient little house wives who pumped out a couple of kids and thanked God for how good their life was, but Bethany’s mother wasn’t like that. She’d made all their lives a miserable Hell, and it took Mr. Heere far too long after she left to realize they were better off without her.

Bethany couldn’t end up like that. He wouldn’t fail Michael. 

He reached for her breasts, fingers curling as he squeezed them into an iron grip. He released a moment later, thumbing her nipples. “You feel so soft, baby,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to feel them milk swollen someday soon.”

Michael, much to his own dismay, quite liked Jeremy’s tits. Shit, he liked his cunt too, and he even liked when Jeremy talked about how stiff and sore his cycle made him. 

He hated it and hated the way he enjoyed it. Sure, he knew enough about gender to understand that Jeremy was still a boy and that it was okay to like ‘female’ anatomy when it was connected to a man _ in theory _… but there was still something upsetting about being an out-and-proud fag who wanted to lick a cunt. It left him insecure and, like many things Jeremy had done recently, pissed him off.

“Oh, Michael,” Mr. Heere’s voice cut through the brooding. He had a much softer tone now. “I’m so sorry for all the trouble Bethy caused you. She’s gotten to be quite the handful, hadn’t she? I wish you hadn’t gotten dragged into it. Teenagers, huh?”

Michael felt the anger recede a little. He smiled up at Mr. Heere, and suddenly remember when he’d had _ such _ a crush on him; he used to show up at Jeremy’s house super early to go to school, just in case he caught sight of Mr. Heere in boxer shorts--or, better yet, fully nude--under the loosely wrapped bath towel. It seemed like forever ago, now. “It’s okay, Mr. H. Not your fault shit happens.” The smile grew to a grin. “I guess we just have to train her, right? Body like this, it’s all you’re good for _ Bethy_. Right?” Jeremy gave a small, pained noise. Michael ruffled his hair and looked up at Mr. Heere. “You first?”

A nod. Mr. Heere gave another grope of breasts, the weight pleasant in his hands, and let them drop again. Michael watched as he shuffled to Jeremy’s back, kneeling behind him. His hands moved forward.

His fingertip dribbled onto Jeremy’s shoulders. Like raindrops, they trailed slow lines down his back, pressure waxing and waning as he drug out goose flesh. The effect was mesmerizing; Michael watched as Jeremy quiver with something approximate to pleasure, amused.

Mr. Heere circled outward. He found her hips now, pressing in, working the muscles and fat in a way he meant to bruise by morning. He leaned forward, whispering “Get ready, baby. I’m going to show you what a man feels like.”

Mr. Heere grabbed his cock again, directing himself one-handed by the shaft. The tip of it made contract with dripping labia, and he traced from one end of her to the other in a slow lap. “You’re turned on,” he commented, smiling. “Thatta girl. You’re starting to understand your place, aren’t you? Daddy’s little slut.”

Michael moaned from his spot on the throne. Tears were pouring from Jeremy’s eyes now, and the sight of his shaking despair made Michael’s heart soar. For a moment, all traces of the anger he’d felt evaporated. He locked eyes with Mr. Heere, who nodded.

“It’s time, Bethany.”

He slid his hips forward, cock burying in to the base.

Tight. Unbelievably tight. Almost uncomfortable in fact, except, oh, it was good, it was so fucking _ good_. He groaned low pleasure, his hands going back to their spots along her hips. After a moment to absorb the sensation of being inside her, he pulled backwards and thrust forward. “ _ Fuck_.”

And so it began. Michael watched with amusement at the way Jeremy’s tongue faltered and halt, no longer able to focus with each impalement. He has to do _ everything _ himself, doesn’t he? Michael took another long drag of the joint, thinking of all the ways Jeremy had hurt him, trying to draw out the fury he’d held before. It doesn’t take long for him to fume.

He pulled Jeremy back, looking at his beautiful, blinded face, at the way his tears soaked and mouth quivered. Pathetic. Traitorous. Completely, undeniably sexy.

Holding his joint in his mouth, one hand hooked a thumb into Jeremy’s mouth and made him drop his jaw. The other gripped the tip of Jeremy’s tongue between thumb and forefinger, tugging it out. He waited for Jeremy to resist him, quite ready to punish him, but when that didn’t happen he laughed. “You do try to be good, don’t you?” His grin was humorless, voice dripping with poison. “Too bad it’s not enough.”

He pulled his thumb out. Grabbing the joint again, he shoved the lit end onto the center of tongue, watching with satisfaction as Jeremy squirmed. He let out a moan of surprise and pain. “Ah-hhh…”

Michael dropped the roach to the side. As Mr. Heere had done before, Michael grabbed himself, rubbing the tip of his cock along burnt skin. He hoped the smear of precum made it hurt worse; he knew it wasn’t much of an injury, certainly not anything permanent, but it would feel uncomfortable. He wanted to maximize as much of that as he could.

His grabbed a fistful of Jeremy’s hair, shoving him downward. Deeper, deeper into his mouth Michael went, down his throat. More than ever, Jeremy’s youth was shown in how hard he struggled to accommodate Michael’s girth. The nasty bit of excitement this brought egged him on.

Getting Jeremy to the base of him took time. He didn’t care about his comfort, but nothing appealed to Michael less than getting vomit all over his cock. “You’re doing good,” Michael said in a pseudo-soft, low groan. “You’re doing really good, Bethany. If you keep this up, maybe we’ll forgive you.” 

He threaded his fingers into Jeremy’s hair, holding him down while he reached to his side. Under the coke glass was a beautiful, blue tie, made of the same silk as the binds. _ Something her mother had given me _ Mr. Heere had said, as he handed it to Michael while they planned. _ Here. Better use than I’ll ever get out of it_.

Michael smiled.

And he looped the fabric under Jeremy’s neck, letting go of Jeremy’s hair to take both ends and cross them. He pulled. Hard.

The effect was instant. Jeremy tried to pull off Michael to flee, terror overriding submission, but Michael was quicker than that. He twisted the tie together, taking hold with one fist as the other held him down. He sighed pleasantly. “If you bite me, I’ll snap your neck.”

Jeremy didn’t bite, but he still fought, his squirming pitiful. Michael throbbed; the sensation of his boyfriend gurgling on his cock was unlike any other, and oh, what a beautiful sight it made. He leaned back, watching.

Mr. Heere’s thrusts had gone down to a snail’s pace as he watched his Bethany choke. She was a twitching mess, the noises of her suffocating a wet, slurping sound. He ran his hands along her thighs, and wished they’d set a camera to capture this. As the seconds passed, her lips began to turn color, but still Michael waited until the very last moment before he let the tie go slack. 

Jeremy gasped fish-like against him, sucking desperately for air he couldn’t get with his mouth full. Michael jerked him backward. “Here. I guess you earned this.”

Jeremy blubbered something incoherent as he wheezed, repeated noises coming through which, before his lost his voice to the terror of his assault, may have been a ‘thank you’. The thought of that made Michael sneer again.

“I’m only being this_ nice _because I don’t want you dead, you dumb cunt,” he said, and decided Jeremy had enough kindness, shoving him back down. “There. Keep sucking.”

He looked up again, and locked eyes with Mr. Heere. Michael got the hint, and handed over the reins of the tie, his hands knotting in Jeremy’s hair instead as Mr. Heere took control.

The tempo changed. Bethany slammed into the chair and further down Michael’s cock, as her father pistoned inside her. Mr. Heere lost all pretenses of a slow break-in, leading a new, consistent plowing. They had all night to train her after all. He wanted to cream inside his daughter’s pussy _ now_.

Michael wasted no time catching up. He pushed up Jeremy’s head just enough that he could lean forward and match the pace with his own hips, fucking deep into Jeremy’s warm throat. “_ Shit_.”

There was no attempt to get the warm object underneath them off. 

They no longer cared enough about it, nor it’s pleasure. They didn’t mock it, they didn’t taunt it, they didn’t acknowledge it. Simply a collection of holes, its worth and intelligence were stripped completely because they didn’t care. They didn’t care. Nobody cared.

But Jeremy got off anyway. Light headed, barely conscious, his body reacted with a weak spurt of involuntary, unwanted pleasure; he crescendoed seconds before them, and the aftermath allowed him to ride through their conjoined orgasms no longer fully aware of what was happening around him.

They used him and used him and used him. Only a few minutes after this, his ass was broken in, drawing the blood that didn’t come before. They switched places, spit-roasting again, and eventually managed to fuck his cunt and his ass at the same time. When neither could get off anymore, Michael’s anger bubbled forward until he choked him so hard that Jeremy had to remember how to mouth the words _ please stop _ for him to let go.

It was nearing 5 am by the end of it. Michael drove Jeremy and Mr. Heere home, the good-bye cheerful and warm. Mr. Heere carried his son inside. 

“I’m still very disappointed in you,” he sighed into his hair. “So I’m keeping you grounded for now. Okay? School can wait.” He dropped him on his bed, sweeping through his room to gather the phone and computer and any other possible distractions. Jeremy watched him with vacant eyes, lost in his own head.

“I love you, baby girl. Sleep well.”

The door closed, locking from the other side.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is Jeremy Heere Did Nothing Wrong (trademark) (copyright) approved


End file.
